


Radioactive

by aspenstarlight, clairedearing



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspenstarlight/pseuds/aspenstarlight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairedearing/pseuds/clairedearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Clean energy is a clean future." A new generation of nuclear power plants are about to go online in London. Cleaner, and more fuel efficient, they're the wave of the future. They're also a big target, and physical security can only do so much. The fight is being taken online, and the stakes are high. Bond and Q must work together, and fast, to prevent what could be the biggest nuclear disaster since Chernobyl. If only they knew who they were fighting against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as something small, but the idea blossomed. Safe to say my lovely friend and beta Boots (couldbeaspaceraider) encouraged it. I haven't seen Skyfall yet since I'm in the US, so I have no clue how accurate my depiction of Q is other than what we've seen in promos. But I've fallen in love with these two and I just had to start writing/posting. Let me know what you think. :D

He observed the man from the other end of the café by hiding behind a newspaper. The only way he could see the other was by using a mirror, conveniently jammed into the corner. Quiet voices and the soft clacking of computer keys being tapped on filled his hearing, overtaking the occasional harsh hiss of expensive espresso machines punctuating the background murmur. And then there was was the reassuring, quiet breathing in his ear that meant security. To him at least.

_“007, status check?”_

“Nothing yet. Annikov’s alone still. No one’s approached except the barista.” He flipped a page of the paper, and kept his gaze on the mirror. An espresso sat in front of him, but it was untouched, slowly cooling. He hated espressos.

_“Who all check out.”_

“Have you finished scanning the rest yet?”

_“Not quite. Should be a few more minutes at most.”_

He chuckled, shaking his head. To anyone else it would look like he was reacting to something he read in the paper. “Getting slow, Q?” he muttered, and was pleased with the little huff of annoyance he heard in his ear.

_“For your sake Bond, you should hope not.”_

And that shut him up fast, damn him. For some reason, he always forgot that while Q was young to the business, that didn’t make him not mature enough for it, or unneeded for that matter. His mouth tightened into a fine line and he didn’t respond, just turned another page.

It was another quiet five minutes before something happened. He saw it coming before it happened. There was a huge crash as a younger man, distracted by his cell phone, ran into a barista carrying a tray of plates and cups right in front of his target’s table. It drew the attention of James and everyone else. He watched as the man, stuttering an apology, rushed to help the girl pick up the dishes. Then he noticed something strange.

The man seemed awfully nervous for just bumping into a barista. There was a faint sheen of sweat dotting his brow. He looked more closely, taking in the man’s appearance. Young, still with a little baby fat around his cheeks; handsome, but not in an overt way, his lightly tanned features were soft. His blonde hair looked gelled, small clumps of it sticking together unattractively. His body, from what James could make out, was well looked after. The eyes were what really caught his attention though. A bright blue contrasted the dead look in them, and even from afar he could make out the vague smudge of makeup concealer underneath them. Hiding some pretty big bags, he hazarded.

Only because he was watching so closely did he catch the man making a faint gesture to the left, a casual flick of the wrist, aimed underneath the table where Annitov sat. There was a flash of metal and then his hand was back to picking up the plates and cups scattered on the floor, all while apologizing profusely. It happened in less than a second, and if anyone who was looking, they would have no idea what had happened.

James knew what had happened. The drop off had been quick, but he recognized the flashdrive even from across the room. Without waiting, he folded up his paper and stood, throwing it and a few bills for a tip onto the table, and walked to the door and outside.

He dug around for his keys and hit the ‘ON’ button. A grey, Volvo S40T5 beeped, and he walked around to the driver’s side. Sometimes he hated blending in. He used the cover of opening the door to glance into the café and he smiled to himself when he saw the Russian walking towards the door to leave.

_“007_ , _what are you doing?”_

“Following up on the lead. Tail the other.” He slid into the car and slammed the door behind him, right as Annitov walked out and towards a car parked a ways in front of his. Slipping the keys into the ignition, he started it up. Then, leaning over the passenger seat, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a slim, silenced, silver Walther .32 and, just in case, a larger Heckler and Koch UMP-9. While he waited for Annitov to start his car, he quickly fitted another silencer on the UMP. He figured M would rather not want to hear about audible gunfire on a college campus if it happened. And why would Q provide him with them if he didn’t want Bond to _use_ them.

_“Just don’t kill him. M wants to interrogate him. She can’t do that with him dead.”_

“And here I thought I was the one who needed to pull the trigger.”

He slammed down the brake, shifted into drive, and let off the brake and hit the gas, pulling smoothly out of the parking space. Annitov was only a few hundred meters ahead of him, stopped at a stop sign. There was another car between him and James, which he pulled up behind and waited. He scanned the area, trying to figure out a way to cut off Annitov. Then, seeing the car in front of him changed their signal to turn left, he had an idea.

“Q, get the campus police aware that there’s an agent in the area and to ignore any reports of a crash.” He signaled to turn right and did so, then signaled right again into the turn lane and seeing the intersection was clear he followed through, driving away from Annitov. “Get the traffic lights under control, and I need you to turn the light for North St. green on my mark.”

_“Would you like me to dispatch a cleanup team?”_ He could hear the sarcasm even over the comm, accompanied by the furious clacking of keyboard keys as Q struggled to keep up with him.

Coming upon another four way intersection, and didn’t even signal left before hitting the brake and jerking the wheel left, letting off and giving it gas as he straightened the car. He didn’t answer Q, just shoved the UMP into the back seat with one hand and the Walther under the front seat as he approached the last intersection and turned left again, one handed, at speed. He had to judge it right. Thankfully the traffic was practically non-existent and he had a straight shot to cross North.

Easily going sixty-five kilometers per hour, once he made it to the middle of the block and barked, “Now.”

His light turned red, Annitov’s turned green, and Bond didn’t stop. Barely having a second to brace himself, he wrenched the wheel to the right and his driver’s side slammed into the passenger side of Annitov’s car, spinning them around. His seatbelt caught, and he lurched forward then sideways, head snapping around. The wheel jumped in his hands, but his grip was tight. With a jolt, the cars split apart and then settled, engines rattling.

He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Reaching underneath his seat, he grabbed his Walther and went for the passenger door, since he knew his could be jammed. He stumbled out of the car, moving as fast as he could. Annitov was still in his car, likely in shock. Keeping the gun just out of sight, he angrily banged against the hood of Annitov’s car.

“You had a red!” he screamed. “YOU BLIND?!”

Coming around the front of the car, he furiously opened the driver’s door, and Annitov started falling out of the car, trying to get out of the airbag. Bond grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet, stumbling.

“Look what you did!” He shoved Annitov towards his wrecked Volvo and while the man was still stunned and off balance, he slipped the gun up and fired one shot into his knee, the gun bucking in his grip quietly. Then he smashed the butt of the weapon against his head, knocking him out cold before he even had a chance to cry out in pain. And then it was over. Annitov was down, bleeding onto the ground. There were a few cars coming up to the accident, and he needed to move quickly. He wasn’t sure if they were the cleanup crew, or civilians.

He placed his arms under Annitov’s shoulders, and dragged the man to the Volvo, leaving a trail of blood. Leaning into the passenger seat, he pulled the dead weight up then slid into the driver’s seat, Annitov following behind. He quickly reached over to pull a stray leg in, and shut the door. Blood had dripped onto the black leather seat, and he was glad he wasn’t doing the cleaning. Annitov’s head lolled against the head rest, and disgusted, he pushed it away from him where it cracked against the glass. He’d really have a headache when he woke up.

Checking his mirror, and seeing people approaching, he pressed the gas pedal, lurching forward around the damaged car. He turned the wheel to the right, until he was facing the way Annitov had come, and floored it, tires screeching in protest.

The comm in his ear crackled, and Q’s voice echoed in his head.

_“M will be pleased to see that you haven’t at least injured him beyond fixing this time.”_

James didn’t say anything, but he caught the faint tone of relief buried underneath the exasperation, and he allowed himself to relax a little. He could almost feel the adrenaline draining from him, and he certainly felt the pain from his injuries seeping through. It would soon be an unpleasant ride. He hoped to make it back to HQ before it got too bad. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. But at least he still had it. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond returns to HQ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update! Also, reminder that I have not seen Skyfall but I was spoiled for something and I decided that I'm not going to change anything regarding the characters in this. So this story is a stand-alone. Enjoy!

M and Q were waiting for him when he finally stopped at the end of the tunnel; M standing tall and dignified, while Q slouched slightly, looking tired. He spotted a few agents lurking in the shadows, waiting for him. Once the engine was off they swarmed the car and began removing the unconscious Annitov. Out of curiosity, Bond tried to open his door, and was pleasantly surprised when it popped open with ease instead of sticking like he was expecting.

“There’s a flash drive in one of his pockets.” He stumbled a little getting out, and caught Q making an abortive movement towards him. Straightening to show he was fine, he winced and rubbed his sore neck, glancing at the two of them. “Did Villier’s team get the boy?”

“He’s in interrogation two. In considerably better health than your target,” M said tightly, expression disapproving.

“Yes, well.” Bond let out a huff of amusement, watching as the agents struggled to carry Annitov’s limp body towards the entrance bay. “Villier’s target wasn’t a hundred and ten kilo Russian arms dealer now, was he?”

Q was handed a flash drive by one of the agents, and Bond instinctively knew it was what they had spent months looking for. A lead, finally, that wasn’t a dead end.

“How long until it’s analyzed?”

“A day,” Q said, running his thumb over the drive. “At the least. I need to run it on a clean laptop and then I’ll need to start analyzing the data. I’m sure it’s encrypted, so I expect it will take longer to break that.”

“Which means, Bond, that you’ll have plenty of time to go to the med wing and get looked over.” M ran a critical eye down his body, and he realized, looking down, that there was a huge bloodstain on his khakis and polo shirt from Annitov’s wounds. He’d need to throw them. He would have thought by now, after having worked with him for nearly a year, that Q would’ve invented stain resistant pants for him, considering the amount of...mess he dealt with on a daily basis. Maybe even a full suit or two too.

“You think this is mine?” He scoffed, and walked towards the door, Q trailing behind. He shot back at M, “You have seen the other guy, haven’t you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Immediately after passing through the door, Q was right next to him, body tense and coiled with worry.  

“You hit him. With your car. Are you an idiot?”

James glanced at him, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “Why ask when you already know the answer.”

Q glared at him, letting out a sigh of controlled frustration. They swerved to avoid an agent coming down the hall the other way, and Q waited until he was well past before he answered.

“When I say return the equipment in one piece I don’t just mean the toys, Bond.”

Exasperated now, he grabbed Q’s arm and spun him around, facing him and meeting blue eyes, said, “I had it under control.”

Jerking out of Bond’s grip, Q crossed his arms and shot a look down the hallway, practically puffing himself up in indignation. “Did you really? What do you think would have happened if I had not been able to hack into the traffic system?” The tone changed to anger. “You were lucky enough that Meadow’s team was right behind you to liaise with the campus police. They didn’t take kindly with a government agent chasing an armed suspect ‘round their campus.”

“I think you’re spending too much time with M,” he said after a pause.

“You are insufferable.” Q slumped in defeat. “I’m trying to tell you off you bastard.”

Silence reigned. James felt, well, bad for once. If it had been M, it wouldn’t have mattered. He got this talk from her all the time. He knew it by heart. But this was Q. It was different coming from him. It felt more like real and harsh, not just like someone going through the motions.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, but this felt right.

“I wish I could believe you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Half an hour after leaving M, and Q in the hallway, Bond strode into the lab, dressed in a clean suit. He adjusted his cuffs as he walked around to where Q was hunched over a laptop, looking intent. And tired.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked, choosing to not bring up their previous conversation. There were a few others in the room, and that conversation felt too private.

“Yesterday. From three fifty-five AM to five AM to be precise.” Q said, his voice soft.

“Are you planning on remedying that?” he asked, knowing what the answer would be already. They’d done this before.

“Remedying what?” the other man questioned, not looking up from his screen, glasses reflecting the light.

He put all he had into no sighing, pulling on his years of experience on schooling emotion, and succeeded, but barely. “The decryption program will be running for a few hours. Take a fucking break. You’re of no use if you’re dead tired.”

Q sighed, pausing in his typing to take his glasses off and run his hands over his face, then spinning the chair around to face him. Damn, the kid looked horrid in the harsh light. Dark bags lined his red eyes, and he was paler than usual. James knew he’d been working his ass off the past week. They all had. But perhaps it was Q who got the short straw, having to analyze and go over every piece of intelligence they brought him. The computers helped, but they could only do so much.

“I was planning on getting some food.” Q scrutinized him this time. “Chinese.”

“It’s something,” he muttered, leaning back against the table across from Q, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll give you a ride.” He knew getting out would revive the Quartermaster a little, but the likelihood of that happening was slim. He still had to try.

Shaking his head in exasperation and laughing quietly, Q turned back to  the computer. “Thank you for the offer 007, but you seem to forget that they deliver. If you wouldn’t mind going and retrieving it, that would be appreciated.” Q had turned back to the laptop. “You are so good at retrieving things after all. Just be careful not to crash into anything on your way there, hm?”

 


End file.
